Sherlock Holmes and The Disturbance at Somerset Hall Chapter 1
by Terrence Webster
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is Britain's finest consultant detective. Along with his faithful companion Doctor Watson, they solve all cases great and small. Trivial and supernatural.


A violent cracking sound rudely awoke Watson, he stirred immediately from his bed to investigate the source of the noise. From his bedside table he drew his service revolver and headed towards the lounge. He stood poised by the door ready to deal with the possible threat; as he burst through the door he aimed his pistol towards an upturned table and saw a scattered mess of newspapers and journals. Holmes bent over and crouched behind the table starring at the pages strewn across the floor. Watson sighed and put his pistol in his dressing gown pocket, "Holmes what on earth are you doing, have you any idea what time it is?!",

"7 o clock in the evening" Holmes replied apathetically still starring at the pages,

"WRONG IT IS 3 O CLOCK IN THE MORNING?!", Watson shouted. Holmes looked up at the grandfather clock and mumbled, "Huuh time does fly". Watson looked over to the desk and saw a half empty bottle of some sort of spirit, "Have you been on the absinthe again?!",

"It helps me think Watson, now pay attention before I lose my chain of thought. I've found us a case, it's about time we stretched our legs". Watson walked over to Holmes and looked at the pages on the floor confused, "What are we looking at?",

"This!" Holmes said frantically as he pressed a newspaper up against Watson's face, he pushed it back and looked at the news article title.

**FAMILY MYSTERIOUSLY DIE AT SOMERSET HALL**

Watson looked at Holmes and then asked, "Is this a normal case or 'the other type' of case we deal with?",

"After careful research and looking into the records of Somerset Hall I have concluded that this isn't the work of a normal criminal". Watson moaned at Holmes,

"But we dealt with that Vampire nest in Kensington Gardens just over a week ago, can't we find ourselves a…normal case to solve". Holmes' eyes darted up to Watson in surprise and he snapped,

"Evil never sleeps Watson!",

"Yes yes evil doesn't sleep but good men do. Time for bed, we'll look at this in more detail in the morning when you are…sober", he replied as he picked up Holmes and guided him towards his bedroom. Holmes fell into bed and as soon as his head hit the pillow he was almost instantaneously unconscious. Watson then shuffled back to his room, placed his revolver in his bedside drawer and went back to sleep.

The next morning Watson got dressed and made his way to the messy lounge to find Holmes sat at his desk grasping his head in his hands. Watson picked up the pile books and then slammed them on the desk. Holmes' head quickly darted up and his eyes were wise open. Holmes looked back over his notebook and said, "Watson please don't do that, it feels like Chinese new year fireworks are going off in my skull",

"Next time no more absinthe. Doctor's orders, now any progress with your case notes?" he asked. Holmes sipped from his tea and pointed to a small copy of a family portrait and said, "After looking at all the data I have concluded that this is the work of a vengeful spirit and by the sounds of it, a rather angry one too", Watson looked intrigued and then replied,

"Oh really, what makes you think that and not just another low life murderer?",

"The victims showed no visible signs of external trauma, however upon further examination the doctor found the victims lungs were filled with blood",

"Emphysema causes similar symptoms". Holmes pointed down to a specific line on the newspaper and asked rhetorically, "Well how do you explain the 'mysterious' black substance found on the victims?". Disbelief turned to grim realisation as Watson read the details he looked up at Holmes and said, "Ectoplasm…",

"Elementary my dear Watson. Ectoplasm left, by a rather annoyed spirit", he replied. Watson put the newspaper down as asked, "So, what's our next move?". Holmes stood up and made his way towards his room, "Pack your things Watson and do it quickly, we are taking the next train out to Shropshire. The game is a foot".


End file.
